


The Power of Friendship

by Discreet



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discreet/pseuds/Discreet
Summary: On a dark empty street, Emma meets her old friend Taylor.





	The Power of Friendship

Emma brushed her hair back and looked again at her phone. No new messages, no missed calls, nothing but plain numbers ticking down the time. 10:53.

Late, but not quite late. Emma put her phone away and tried not to look as nervous as she felt.

Her latest photoshoot had taken her further out from the Boardwalk, near the less respectable areas. Again not quite the Docks, but close enough that she couldn't help but remember that not everyone was doing as well as her family.

The occasional car rushed past with a faint whoosh. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched each one, hoping it was her dad. But he was late. Had called her to say as much, something at the office holding him up.

But that had been more than 30 minutes ago.

Emma glanced at her phone and did the calculation. 38 minutes exactly. Emma let out of a huff of breath, trying to expel that little fact out of her head. Idiot, she muttered to herself. What was she doing, freaking out like some sort of wimp? She was fine. No one was going to mess with her, not so long as she didn't look like a total victim.

Emma puffed out her chest and put on a glare. Thugs, muggers and worse liked easy targets, people who wouldn't fight back, who would just take the abuse. Someone like Taylor. Emma lips turned to a nasty grin. If Taylor were here, no doubt she'd be shriveling like a worm in the sun.

Emma was fine, she'd be fine. She was stronger than Taylor.

A car turned the corner and started to slow as it neared her. There was a flutter in Emma's chest, a brief relief before she saw that this wasn't her dad's car. It was a rusted sedan with dents in the doors and paint peeling off.

Emma's lip was already curling back in disgust before a window rolled down and she saw who was inside.

The passenger's side was empty, but the driver had leaned over in the seat, thrusting a grimey grin towards Emma.

"Hey," the driver said, his eyes dipping below her neckline, "You selling?"

Selling? Did he- Emma flushed and turned away, pulling back from the edge of the sidewalk until her back was to the building.

"Ah come on," the man called out, "I got cash, big payday. What's your price, babe? I'll pay."

Emma ignored him, hoping he would just go away.

"Playing hard to get? Come on bitch, I ain't got all day."

"Fuck off!" Emma shouted, her face still red. Don't be weak she reminded herself. Fake till you make it. Don't be a victim. "Get the fuck out my face!"

The man's grin vanished and the humor in his eyes faded. He didn't look angry. He looked... he looked empty. Emma felt her stomach drop, oh God, what was he going to do. There was no one else around, just her and the man.

He stared at her, but it was as if he didn't see her. He was lost in thought. Weighing his options. Could he grab her without too much fuss? Would anyone notice on this dead street? Would anyone miss Emma?

He blinked and it was like a switch flipped in Emma's head. She took off running, her feet pounded on the pavement and she was so incredibly thankful she wasn't wearing heels. She ran down the sidewalk, praying, hoping the man was too slow. Emma turned a corner and ran halfway down the block before she ventured a glance behind herself.

Nothing. Just an empty street. Emma gasped for breath, the short run only partially to blame for her lack of air. With trembling hands, she found her phone and had to try three times until she finally dialed her dad.

The ring, ring, ring felt taunting. Each dial tone echoing nothing, nothing, nothing until it hit voicemail.

"Hello, this is Alan Barnes, I'm not available at the moment, but -"

Emma ended the call and hissed. The only thing that kept her from screaming was the fear that the man would overhear. Or anyone would. Any freak could get her here. Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Why was she even here? Why couldn't she just be back home already, wrapped in her bed under a million layer of blankets, buried until she could just disappear forever.

Emma gasped again. She needed to calm down. She was freaking the fuck out. She needed to calm down. Emma pressed the phone against her head, the plastic cooling her sweat-laden forehead.

There was one other person she could call.

Emma pulled away from the phone and stared at it. She didn't want to call Sophia, not when her shirt was drenched with sweat and her hair was a mess. Emma winced, imagining the disdain in the other girl's eyes.

On the phone, Emma could see the time. 11:13. Late. Properly, dangerously late.

Emma bit her lip, she had no choice. She had to call Sophia. The sooner the better, who knew how long it would take Sophia to rescue her. Emma's fingers started to reach for the number in her contact list when a light fell on her. Full white light, the sort a car would have.

Emma's heart stopped.

Slowly, she looked over the shoulder. A single headlight blinded her, she had to squint to make out the shape behind it. It wasn't a car.

"Emma?" A voice called to her. A familiar voice.

"T-Taylor?"

"Yeah, oh sorry." The light shifted to the side, only tangentially pointed her way. It really was Taylor Hebert. Emma blinked in disbelief. It had been a month since anyone had seen her, she had just disappeared from school and there she sat in the seat of a moped, looking as always like slime on a stick, dark sweater and sweatpants hiding her bony body. The only thing off was her hard-hat helmet like the sort a construction worker would wear. That, and the look of concern on Taylor's face.

"What are you doing out here, Emma?" Taylor asked.

Emma blinked, still stunned. Since when did Taylor have a moped?

"Emma?"

She shook her head and straightened her back. This was good. Taylor was here and so long as Taylor was weak, Emma could be strong.

"I was just here for a photoshoot," Emma said, brushing her hair back. She remembered telling Taylor about her first modeling gig, how dumbstruck her former friend had been. "It went a little later than I thought."

Taylor didn't respond, looking dubious.

"My dad said he was running late to pick me up, so I figured I should just walk home," Emma lied effortlessly.

"Emma," Taylor spoke, her voice quiet, "This isn't exactly the best neighborhood."

Emma suppressed a wince. Calm, she needed to sound calm. Say something, idiot!

It was Taylor who spoke. "Y'know, I uh," she fidgeted in her seat and Emma hated it. Hated the way she squirmed like a worm. "I could give you a ride if you need. I still remember where your place is."

Emma mouth opened, but nothing came out. She should tell the loser geek off, scream her away, but Emma couldn't. There was being strong and then there was being fucking stupid. Emma still remembered the man with his beat-up car. He was still out there.

Emma couldn't help the tinge of her cheeks as she nodded. "Yeah, alright."

"Okay," was all Taylor said as she scooched over on the moped, making some more room on the end. Emma moved to board, but stopped as Taylor offered her a spare helmet, it looked just as dweeby as Taylor's. Emma swallowed the insult that came to mind and dutifully put it on.

With that out of the way, Emma hopped on and was ready to leave before Taylor had to look back at her again.

"Um, have you ever ridden on a moped before?"

Emma scowled. "No."

"You're gonna have to hold on."

"To what?"

Taylor's face tinged red.

It was only a second until Emma's did same. Of course, of fucking course.

Her scowl worsened. "You could just drive slow."

Taylor frowned, "Then we'd just be driving for longer."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine." She wrapped her arms around Taylor's mid-section. It was sad how little there was to actually hold onto like Taylor was just a skeleton underneath her sweater. "There, happy?"

Taylor just gave a small smile before the moped started forward. They drove down the street, the single headlight slicing through the darkness that had overwhelmed Emma earlier. They didn't actually move very fast, the moped put-putting away at what would have been a leisurely pace in a car.

But even at their sedate speed being in a car and being outside on a moped were too completely different things. The wind sent a chill through Emma and soon she was wishing she had a sweater as thick as Taylor's. To distract herself from the cold, Emma broke the silence.

"So. When did you get a moped?"

Taylor glanced over her shoulder before responding. "Not too long ago. About a month."

"Are you actually old enough to drive one?"

Taylor laughed and the sound surprised Emma. When was the last time she had heard Taylor actually laugh?

"You got on thinking I don't even have a license?" Taylor asked with a chuckle.

Emma glared at Taylor's back, but didn't say anything.

"State laws minimum age for driving a moped is 16 years old unless you get a special exemption status. Which I did." Taylor explained, more than a bit smug.

"What, is that like a handicapped pass?" Emma snarled.

To her surprise, Taylor only laughed again. "Kinda. But there's a lot more paperwork and a lot less sympathy."

"What so you just applied and they gave it to you?"

Taylor looked back at Emma and... and grinned. Emma blinked, confused and then Taylor turned her gaze back to the road.

"Yeah, something like that." Taylor said.

Emma stared, still unsure what to make of this development. What was this confidence she was seeing? Was it the moped that was doing this for Taylor? Did she grow a spine when she was on this thing? Or was it the fact that she had seen Emma looking so pathetic and rescued her? Emma seethed at the thought, but she could hardly voice it now, while she was on the moped clinging to Taylor like they were highschool sweethearts.

They drove along in silence for a while longer. This puny little thing really was slow. They would've made it to Emma's home by now if they were driving her dad's car.

Emma started to say as much when she heard the rev of an engine behind them. A purr that was pushed into a growl. A pair of headlights snapped on and caught the two of them in the center.

It was the rusty beat-up car. And behind the wheel. The man.

All thoughts, schemes or insults vanished at once. Emma screamed, her arms wrapping tight around Taylor. "DRIVE! DRIVE FASTER!"

Taylor stiffened and tried to look behind herself, but the car's headlights were blindingly bright. "What, what's wrong?"

"JUST FUCKING DRIVE!"

Taylor grit her teeth and stepped on the gas. The moped whirred, speeding up, but it was nowhere near enough. The rusty car, even old, beat-up and dented was still faster than the puny moped. Its engine - four times larger than the moped's - roared and the car pressed forward. The car bumper inched closer to the moped's tail.

"Taylor!" Emma screamed in the other girl's ear, "If he catches us! He'll, he'll, he'll!" Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to remember the alleyway. The ABB members surrounding her. The blade point moving over her face, hovering over nose, eye, mouth and ears. The flat soulless voice, _Pick_.

"Hang on," Taylor said.

The moped jerked suddenly to the right and then kicked up onto the curb, riding on the sidewalk. The car behind followed, metal screeching as the bumper scraped against the curb. Taylor sucked in her teeth and yanked on the handles again, but she didn't go back onto the road, she dove right in between two buildings. A crack between them forming an alley just wide enough for the moped to slip through. The ground here wasn't meant for driving and the moped bounced and rattled with every crack, but they stayed upright. Speeding along with brick wall on either side of them.

And then they popped out back onto a street, skidding first on the sidewalk before hopping the curb and they were on the road again.

Emma checked behind them and it was clear. Of course it was. There was no way the man in the rusty car could have followed them through that alley. No way.

Emma sighed and her head fell, suddenly feeling exhausted. She couldn't believe any of that had just happened. A fucking car chase on a moped. With Taylor.

Emma jerked upright, realizing that she was resting on Taylor. That she had basically been hugging the dweeb like a baby.

Taylor didn't seem to notice, though. Her eyes were on the road even as they left the shittier parts of town and came back to civilization. The Boardwalk actually had a nightlife that was kept relatively safe. Enforcers paid by the shops in the area to ensure that their customers would go undisturbed no matter the time. Emma let out a sigh of relief. She was safe.

The moped turned, off the road that would lead to her home.

"Hey!" Emma said sharply, "Where are you going!"

Taylor replied over her shoulder, "I'm hungry and Fugly Bob's still open."

Emma frowned, but she wasn't in much of a position to say no. And besides, she was hungry too. Something about a life or death situation whetted the appetite. "Fine," she said and they drove on.

They pulled up into the fast food restaurant's parking lot and went inside. Fugly Bob's didn't have a lot of traffic at this time of night. Their clientele this late at night tended to be the inebriated, intoxicated or otherwise influenced. Ahead of them, a couple stoners pondered the menu as if it were an impossible mathematical equation.

Taylor looked at Emma, "Cheeseburger, no pickles?" She asked. She remembered how Emma liked her burgers. For some reason, that bothered Emma.

"Yeah," Emma mumbled.

Taylor nodded and went to order. They got their food quick and went to sit down with their oversized grease-soaked prizes.

It had been a while since Emma had gone to Fugly's. Their burgers were just too... heavy. Her modeling job wasn't fascist when it came to weight like some others, but she had noticed the disapproving looks the photographers giving her sometimes when she got lunch. So Emma wasn't ready for the explosion of taste and grease as she bit into one of Fugly Bob's classic cheeseburgers. She had gone way too long without eating one of these. And with the faint traces of adrenaline still pumping in her veins, the burger tasted even better.

"So good," Taylor murmured through a mouthful. She seemed to be enjoying her burger as much as Emma was and Emma couldn't help, but smile.

They finished their burgers, devouring every scrap with gusto. When every bit of burger was down Emma's gullet, she sat back in her seat, slid halfway down and patted her stomach in satisfaction.

Taylor was licking her fingers clean. "It's been too long since I had a Fugly Bob burger," she said.

"Same," Emma said, not even feeling the need to bring up her modeling job. "I might even want another."

Taylor's mouth dropped open and Emma snickered at the sight of it. "I'm joking!" Emma said. "There's no way I could eat two."

"I'm surprised you even finished one," Taylor said with a smirk.

"You're one to talk, Skinny," Emma shot back, but it didn't carry its usual sting. It was just a little teasing. Gentle ribbing between friends, the way it used to be.

Taylor noticed, too because although her smile didn't fade, her eyes went down to the crumpled wrapper.

The conversation stalled, neither girl willing to broach the subject until Taylor worked up the courage.

"Emma. Why..." she licked her lips, "Would you be my friend again?"

Emma closed her eyes, holding back a groan. Why. Why. Why did she have to ask like that? Like a total fucking wimp. Why did she have to ruin this moment that had been going so well? Why couldn't they just be rather than have to spell it out like a bunch of babies. Why did Taylor insist on being so weak even after everything?

"Emma?"

"What?" She said irritably.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah," Emma sighed, "I heard you."

Taylor stiffened, her resolve hardening and it was so stupid. So kid-like, Emma wanted to slap her.

"Would you be my friend?" She repeated her question as if it would make a difference now.

If this question had come a day earlier, she would have just said no. But after what had happened tonight, Emma couldn't bring herself to do it, no matter how lame Taylor made herself out to be.

Emma stood up from the table. "Thanks," she said quietly, "For the food. And the ride."

She made to go for the door when something yanked her back. Emma looked down, startled. Taylor had grabbed onto her hand.

"Can you please answer me, Emma?" Taylor said.

Emma snarled, "Let go of me you freak!" She wrenched her hand out of Taylor's grasp.

"Hey!" Someone shouted.

Emma looked up and saw one of the stoner's frowning at her.

"What's your problem?" She said, trying to push past him.

He deflected her hand and blocked her. "Why are you being such a bitch?" He said, "That girl just wants to be your friend."

"It's none of your business!" Emma shoved the stoner back and it was enough to make him stumble. She stomped toward the door.

"Emma!" Taylor shouted, "Wait!"

Fucking loser. Emma yanked the door open and stormed out into the night. Whatever, it didn't matter. Taylor was pathetic, no surprise. Emma could get home just fine by herself now that she was in the Boardwalk. She had enough money in her wallet for a cab. Or maybe her dad would finally answer his fucking phone!

Emma was so lost in her thoughts, feet slapping hard against on the parking lot pavement that she didn't notice the rusted car creeping behind her until it was next to her and the window rolled down.

"Hey."

Emma froze.

The grimey man grinned at her through the open car window. "You still selling?"

Emma bolted. Didn't even look at the man. Just ran. Get away, her mind screamed, get away! Find people! People will protect you! Emma ran straight back into Fugly Bob's, practically falling over herself as she dove at the person closest to the door.

"H-h-help!" Emma stammered, clutching the man's shirt.

It was the stoner she had pushed past, but she didn't care. Didn't care how shameless she looked, she just couldn't go back out there.

The stoner frowned at her. "You should apologize, you know."

Emma stared. Had he not heard her? She pointed behind herself at the door where the rusted car sat in the parking lot. "There's a-a-a creep out in the parking lot! He was going to-"

"Hey!" The stoner grabbed Emma by the shoulders, "Who fucking cares! You should apologize."

Emma gaped at him. "Apologize to who?" She asked.

The stoner scoffed and pointed. "To Taylor, of course."

Taylor was still in the same seat as before, except this time she was surrounded, everyone in Fugly Bob from the few customers to the staff had come together to console the girl as she cried soundlessly. A cashier, a college-aged girl, murmured soft words as she rubbed Taylor's back to no avail. Taylor was a wreck, her face scrunched with tears and snot.

"There, there, it's alright." The cashier whispered.

Emma felt like a fish out of water. Her mouth constantly flapping open and closed with nothing coming out. What the fuck was going on?

The door swung open behind her and this time people actually looked up.

Emma looked over shoulder and a scream died on her throat. What was the point. It was him. The grimey man. He smiled at her.

"Hey," he said as he took a step towards her.

"No!" A voice yelled and he stopped.

"Please don't, Wallace, just... just go back to your car."

The man sneered, looking as if he might refuse, but after a moment, he turned away and left.

Emma looked to where the voice came from.

Taylor looked back at her, her cheeks still wet with tears.

"No," Emma whispered.

"Tom, could you please bring Emma here?" Taylor said, her voice still a little scratchy.

"Sure thing, Taylor." The stoner grabbed Emma by the arm and she yelped as he yanked on her.

"Y-you're hurting me!" Emma protested.

Tom didn't care. No one cared. Emma was dragged back to the booth where Taylor sat.

Taylor was no longer crying, but she looked so very sad.

"I didn't want it to be like this," she said, "I thought with... with everything that happened tonight, we could go back to the way things were. I didn't want it to be like this."

Emma's eyes widened. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

Taylor sighed. Her voice was quiet. "Say you'll be my friend, Emma."

Emma's eyes flicked from Taylor then to Tom and then to everyone else. "You're crazy. You're all crazy."

They only looked at her. An empty look in their eyes.

And most empty of them all was Taylor. She weighed her options for a long time.

Then she turned to the people surrounding them. "Close the shutters, lock the door and make sure no one gets in, especially Wallace. Alice, please boil a pot of water. Tom, put Emma on the table."

Tom gave Emma a shove, knocking her into the table and Emma screamed. She threw her hands up, swinging them wildly, slapping at Tom with her wrists. He growled, grabbing both her hands and hoisted her up, forcing her up onto table. But with her feet no longer on the floor, Emma kicked out. Her toe snapped into Tom's chin and he jerked back, his grip loosening for a moment.

Emma wriggled free, sliding off the table and onto the floor. She didn't have time to get up, probably couldn't have even if she tried with how shaky her whole body was. She crawled as fast as she could.

"Help!" She croaked, "Help me, please! Someone!"

She slipped, her foot yanked back. Emma looked back and saw Tom had his hands wrapped around her ankle.

Emma screamed, no more words. Just a wail like a dying animal.

Tom laughed and he gave her a tug, she slipped again and this time she fell, banging her head against the floor. She gasped, the whole world suddenly off-center and spinning.

She was too dizzy to fight him off as he reeled her in and then picked her up like a rag doll. Emma felt faint, but that was good wasn't it? Better than being here. Better than being Emma. She just wanted to go home, bury herself in her bed under a million blankets and disappear forever.

Emma was set down atop the table, her eyes lazing from side-to-side in their sockets. Taylor's face came into her view.

She still looked so sad. "I didn't want it to be like this. This should've been a happy memory for both of us."

"Taylor," a girl said.

Taylor looked up and smiled, "Thanks, Alice, set it down there." Then she looked back down at Emma, the smile gone.

"Just say you'll be my friend, Emma. That's all you have to do."

Emma, dizzy and delirious, managed to spit out a single word: "C-crazy."

Tears welled in Taylor's eyes as she reached for the pot of boiling water.

"I just want my friend back."

**Author's Note:**

> And everyone lived happily ever, friends forever. No fluffier or happier ending than that.
> 
> On a totally unrelated note, I think I really enjoy writing horror stories.


End file.
